


Take This Somewhat Damaged Soul

by rufferto



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: De-Aged Chris Argent, It's not technically underage since Chris is actually over 40, M/M, Petopher Appreciation Week, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 14:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8756356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufferto/pseuds/rufferto
Summary: Petopher Appreciation Week Day 1: Monday: ROMANCE !!!!“Dad?”Chris sighed since he could hear the worry in his daughter’s voice."He’s here,” Peter’s voice sounded unconcerned."Where?” Derek growled.Allison's voice was getting more concerned by the minute.  “I see his stuff, where is he?”“Hiding in the bathroom.” Peter snorted.“What did you do to him?” Scott’s eyebrows climbed.“Nothing. He slept on the couch and I made breakfast.” Peter’s tone wasn’t even remotely defensive, just mildly amused. “Christopher! Your daughter’s here to collect you. Time to go!”Now Chris really just wanted to deck him.“Why are you being such an asshole?” Scott rounded on Peter. “I can smell it from here. He’s upset.”“Just take him and go.” Peter grunted.His daughter knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey Dad, it’s Allison. Come on out, okay?”“No,” Chris glared at the door. It was all that stood between him and abject humiliation in front the teenagers he's supposed to be protecting.“We can’t help you until you come out, Mr Argent.” Scott was clearly worried.Or THE ONE IN WHICH: Chris is De-Aged and Peter is 1000% done with teenagers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for helping motivate me on these fics. Petopher Week Prep has been SO MUCH FUN!!! @Arabwel and @starwritandsuchthings
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think.:)

“I got my head but my head is unraveling  
can’t keep control can't keep track of where it's traveling  
I got my heart but my heart's no good  
you're the only one that's understood”  
-The Perfect Drug “Nine Inch Nails

Chris Argent had no idea how long he’d been out cold. That last blow to the head had really jostled him. It was dark in the cave he’d fallen into and he’d just managed to pull himself out. He was…somewhere in Louisiana. His brain was a little fuzzy on exactly where. He’d been tracking a Werenaga. Half-human, half snake and just as he killed it she had hit him with something. Some kind of poison? He wasn’t sure. Anyway. He’d passed out and only just woken up.

  
Everything felt off and he wouldn’t quite know for sure what happened until he got into the light and could get a good look at himself.  
He hoped to god it hadn’t bitten him. With a sigh he finally pulled himself to his feet and stepped out into the bright light of day.  The first thing he noticed was that nothing fit.  His clothing sort of drooped loosely on him.  
  
Shit.  
  
He stared at his hands. Smooth, young skin. He reached up to his head.  
  
He had way more hair than normal.  
  
His face was shaved.

Chris scowled, not liking at all where any of this was heading. He pulled a swiss army knife out and checked the mirror end of the blade, tilting it slightly towards the light so he could see his reflection.

“Fuck.”

He made the way back to his truck tossed each weapon into a compartment in the back.

“Fuck.”

He eyed his hands again and flexed them. He looked at his reflection in the sideview mirror.

“Fuck.”

He ran a hand through his hair. How the hell was he going to get anywhere now? He didn’t look like his driver’s license and he had a stash of weapons in the back. California had a checkpoint. He’d look really suspicious driving a truck like his and looking as young as he did. He’d have to get as close as he could, bus it the rest of the way and take only the equipment he couldn’t replace.

His phone was ringing.

He wouldn’t even sound the same. His daughter was on the other line checking in on him.  He

got back into the car and sighed. Maybe it was only a temporary spell? He was going to have to find some clothes that fit too.  He sent her a brief text and told her he was going to be a few days late but he’d be back soon.

Back soon? Hell, he looked not much older than his daughter and he was…ah fuck. He was a teenager again. He had hated being a teenager.

“Fuck.”

He banged his head against the back seat of his truck and proceeded to figure out who was his best bet for solving this situation.

A half an hour later he’d settled on just one person, and not because it made his dick jump when his brain conjured the image of Peter Hale. Not at all. The kids? He didn’t want them to see him like this. He could hide out at Peter’s until the spell wore off. Besides, Peter owed him for getting him out of that last row with Derek.

It’s not like they were allies, really. They were ... Chris sighed. He didn’t honestly know what they were. His teenage body was far less controlled than his adult body was and the rushed encounters were just convenient. Blowjobs, hand jobs…the occasional quick fuck.  He didn’t mean anything to Peter Hale. There were no texts from the werewolf when he’d been gone from Beacon Hills for several months. One abrupt phone call. No one mentioned Peter if they could help it and he had too much pride to ask.

He couldn’t deny that it hurt though. How Peter would take what he wanted and leave. There was never any emotion in the wolf’s eyes. It was just sex. Chris may have wanted more but he buried those feelings deep. The last thing he needed was for Peter Hale to know how he felt. The horrible truth was that he knew he was in love with Peter. He was an adult and knew enough to recognize the emotion. He knew what the ache in his heart was. He understood the burning need to just be in the same room with him.  Breathe the same air. _Touch_ him. Be touched. Peter’s fingers were warm and bold.

He had it bad and completely in control.

At least his adult body did.

His teenage body was already hard just – _thinking_ \- about Peter’s fingers.

“Fuck.” Chris sighed and quickly brought himself off.   It was going to be a long ride home and he would use the time to get control of his desires.

*

Peter Hale was having a perfectly lovely evening. His favorite music was on and the bathtub was warm and a glass of wine laced with wolfsbane in his hands. He’d been to the club earlier and danced most of the night so he was as happy as he would ever be given the circumstances of his existence. Of course, that would be when the doorbell to his apartment kept buzzing. Then someone kept hammering at his door. He sighed and stood up in the bathtub. Whoever was there was going to regret the day they were born.  He didn’t even bother with a robe. He just stalked through his apartment to the front door trailing water and bubbles and wrenched it open. The only people who ever visited him were the annoying teenagers when they wanted something so maybe this would teach them to call first.

“I’m busy go…” Peter stared, “away… Who the hell are you?”

The teenager standing at his front door smelled familiar but he didn’t look like anyone Peter had seen before. He also seemed at a complete loss for words at being presented with an eyeful of naked man. The teenager swallowed, tried to speak and failed.

Peter frowned, the scent was piquing his curiosity. He reached over, grabbed the boy by the shirt and pulled him into the light. His features were also familiar…he sniffed and frowned but it was Chris’ eyes which finally clued the wolf in. “You have GOT to be kidding me.”

He yanked Chris into the apartment and kicked the door shut.

“The world hates me.” Peter moaned.  “Christopher?”

Chris nodded, still utterly transfixed because. 1) Peter was naked, 2) He was wet, and 3) suds were sliding over his body and pooling against particular locations. He was eighteen and his cock had a mind of its own. He could hardly be blamed for reacting.

He was also tired and hadn’t slept in the three days it took him to get back to California so thankfully his cock was interested but not unmanageable. He dropped his bag on the floor and shrugged out of Peter’s grasp irritably. “Don’t ask, I have no idea.” Chris sighed. “Or how long it is going to last.”

“So you came here?” Peter’s eyebrows rose.

Chris plopped down on Peter’s leather couch and kicked up his feet. “I could hardly go home like this.” He hadn’t really ever been _in_ Peter’s apartment before.  He was a little curious to see the rest of it but this was fine for now.

“You remember everything, at least?”

“Yeah,” Chris nodded, tiredly. “Go back to whatever it was you were doing. Just let me sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Relaxing. I was _relaxing_. How the fuck am I supposed to do that with a hunter in my apartment?” Peter wanted to know.

“Figure it out.” Chris yawned.  “Peter? I had to ditch my favorite truck getting back here. Give me a break and let me sleep.”

“I actually do have a guest room.” Peter eyed him warily.

“I’m fine here,” Chris grunted. He folded his arms over his chest and turned slightly on his side in an attempt to get comfortable.

Great, he was even more stubborn as a teenager.  “Why me?” Peter looked up at the ceiling.  There were plenty of other reasons he completely didn’t want Chris Argent the elder or younger version in his apartment but he wasn’t going to think about those. Instead, he turned on his heel and stomped back to the bathroom because he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to finish his bath.

*

The wolf finished his bath and got into his sleep pants. He usually just slept in those so he didn’t bother putting on a shirt. He told himself if Chris wanted to sleep on the damn couch he deserved to be uncomfortable. So why then did he have a pillow tucked under one arm and a blanket in the other? He didn’t want to think about the answer he just came closer to the couch.

Chris woke with a start at the movement, slightly panicked, knife in one hand.

Peter stepped back. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, sorry.” Chris mumbled and settled back down. He looked hopefully at his hands and sighed. “Still a teenager.”

"Yeah,” Peter nodded. He offered Chris the pillow. “Since you won’t sleep in the guest room.”

“Thanks.” Chris took it awkwardly. His heart thudded in his chest as he gazed at Peter. Teenage hormones were awful. He really just wish Peter would sit the fuck down on the couch so he could lean against him and feel his warmth.

Peter seemed to sense exactly what he wanted and the wolf frowned. “You’re a lot easier to read,” he noted. “No need to be so jumpy.”

“Peter…” Chris looked over at him.

“Spit it out, I’d like to actually sleep at some point tonight.” Peter muttered.

Chris sighed and felt miserable. He was a teenager. Peter hated teenagers with good reason. He used to comment on Chris’ legs and thighs like he worshiped them. He didn’t have that body anymore. He didn’t have the body that was marked by the wolf. Scars he’d been given during their various adventures in casual sex.  He fought against it … he valiantly fought against it. He was not going to cry but he desperately wanted those scars back. He didn’t feel like himself. How could he go home like this? How could he raise a teenage daughter? He wanted his life back.

“Okay, stop.” Peter rubbed his forehead. “Now you’re giving me a headache and you haven’t even said anything yet. First of all, we’re going to figure this out. We’ll get you back to normal. Second of all, and I don’t know how to say this without you taking it the wrong way… There is absolutely no way in hell anything is happening between us in the state you’re in. I may be an asshole, but I’m not that much of an asshole.” He took one of Chris’ hands in his gently. “I can read every emotion you’re spilling out, and you’re hardly in any state to deal with the issue of us. Third of all, we can’t keep this from the pack. Your daughter has been worried about you. Hell, I’ve…” Peter sighed, not really willing to confess anything just yet. Not anything monumental anyway. “Even I thought about going to look for you.”

God, he was gorgeous. Chris gazed at Peter and laced their fingers together “I…”

"No, stop.” Peter shook his head. “I’m also not going to let you say things you’re going to regret later, Christopher.” He stood up and leaned over to kiss the boy’s head.        He shook out the blanket and tucked the teenager in. “If this condition persists, we’ll call Allison tomorrow.”

Chris had to admit, he felt grudging respect for Peter at this odd behavior. Most guys would have taken advantage. He had expected to be needled and ridiculed right away. Peter was being kind and thoughtful and it made him feel warm and … he couldn’t help but smile.

Peter stared, transfixed. “God, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you really smile.” He reached out to cup Chris’ cheek. It was so odd not to feel the beard against his fingers. Chris leaned into Peter’s hand and nuzzled it.  Chris’ skin was smooth and Peter suddenly wanted to taste this new body, his new virginal body. No one else had touched him yet. Peter growled low in the back of his throat and the sound caught Chris’ attention. The wolf was wanting to take and damn the consequences but he’d just made a promise. Peter groaned and reluctantly pulled himself away. “I can’t.” Peter put several feet between them quickly. “I’m getting too much off of you, I’m just not….”  Without explaining further Peter retreated to his bedroom.

Chris swore again. He had to get a handle on this. Peter was right. Suddenly getting shifted back to a teenager was wreaking havoc with his carefully erected walls. Now that he was safely back in Beacon Hills he needed to focus on getting control of himself. If he went somewhere else chances are he’d never see Peter.  Peter wouldn’t ever willingly come to him. Unfortunately he may not have authority anymore. Physically Scott was older than him now.

Fuck.

He curled up on the couch and pulled the blanket around him. It smelled like Peter. He closed his eyes and sighed. He was just really tired, that was all.

When he woke, Peter wasn’t up yet so he opted to try for a normal routine. He worked out, took a shower in the guest room bathroom and grumbled to himself that he didn’t have to shave.  He eyed his skinny arms. He was really going to need to work out a lot to get back to the body he had. He neatly folded up the blanket by the couch and went to work on making some coffee and breakfast. He had ten voicemails from people in the pack.

He knocked on Peter’s bedroom door, “Peter? Are you up? Breakfast.”  Peter opened the door, fully dressed and looking absolutely perfect. Chris definitely wanted him for breakfast. Even though he’d spent the past two hours trying to gain back control over his body one look at Peter and his cock was crying for attention.

Peter closed his eyes, opened them again and shoved Chris out of the way. “I recommend you keep at least a three feet distance, Argent.” His words were crisp and deliberately hard. He sniffed the air, “You made eggs. Smells good.” With that he moved to the kitchen and got a plateful.

Chris went over a few calming exercises in his brain so he could handle watching Peter put things into his mouth.

“Quit looking at me like I’m dessert, it’s disconcerting.” Peter’s eyes narrowed.

Chris stared down at the table.

“Maybe it might better that you think of me as Uncle Peter until we get this sorted out.” Peter offered.

“Maybe you shouldn’t wear tight V-necks.” Chris groused.

“Point taken.” Peter chuckled as he ate. “Come on, Christopher. There’s some fun to be had with this. You’re young again? You get a do-over. You have more hair?”

 _If I can’t have you, I don’t want one._ Chris almost said and choked it back just in time. Peter had been busy eating and wasn’t paying attention, thank god. “Yay,” he gave an unenthusiastic grunt instead.

Chris poked at his eggs. Now he was depressed. The idea of thinking about Peter as an uncle was making him nauseous.

Peter picked up his phone and set it on speaker.

“Who are you calling?"

“What do you want, Peter?” an irritated Derek answered the other end.

 "Good morning to you too, Nephew and how are you this fine day?” Peter delighted in torturing Derek with pleasantries. It was his favorite hobby.

 “Fine.” Derek snapped. “What. Do. You. Want?”

 “Would you mind contacting Scott and getting him to tell Allison I’ve located her father?”

 “Why isn’t her father calling himself?” Derek asked. “What have you done?”

 Peter scoffed, “Come now, Derek. You know very well how things are between him and I, you have a nose.”

 “Shut up. No I don’t and I don’t want to hear about it.” Derek snarled. “So, you found him? Where is he?”

 “Here.”  Peter looked at Chris. “Say something.”

 “Hi Derek,” Chris glared at Peter.

 “Chris?” Derek frowned. “That doesn’t sound like him. Why hasn’t he contacted Allison?”

 “You have to see it to believe it, nephew.” only Peter could manage to shrug non-visually.

 “You know you could just show me with the camera, Peter.” Derek growled.

 “Oh I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of the close up drama. Just get them and come over.” Peter turned off the phone.

 Chris sighed at Peter, “I kind of wanted some time to acclimate first.”

 “You’re not staying here.” Peter told him bluntly.

 “Why not?”

 “You know why not.” Peter leaned back. “Like I said,” he jerked a thumb at himself. “Uncle Peter. Get used to it.”

 “What if I can’t change back?” Chris swallowed. “What if I’m stuck like this forever?” His eyes widened in horror as the realization of it set in.  He gazed at Peter. “I can’t just forget…’

Peter exhaled. “Look, it was just sex, Christopher. Remember?”

Right, Chris sighed. Peter hadn’t wanted anything more. He looked down sulkily at his plate. “It wasn’t for me,” he mumbled.

Peter didn’t respond and went back to eating his food. An uncomfortable silence fell between them and eventually Chris left the kitchen to go wash up. He was clearly not going to get through to Peter and he had to figure out some way he could stay.  He stayed in the bathroom the rest of the time it took everyone else to get there because honestly he wanted to avoid this as long as possible. He’d heard Peter clean up and not bother to try and get him out. That hurt even more.  For now he just focused on trying to get a grip on his emotions.  
  
*

Only Allison, Derek and Scott had showed up since Stiles had gone to help Deaton with something else the group was dealing with.

“Dad?”

Chris sighed since he could hear the worry in his daughter’s voice.

"He’s here,” Peter’s voice sounded unconcerned.

“Where?” Derek growled.

Allison's voice was getting more concerned by the minute.  “I see his stuff, where is he?”

“Hiding in the bathroom.” Peter snorted.

“What did you do to him?” Scott’s eyebrows climbed.

“Nothing. He slept on the couch and made breakfast.” Peter’s tone wasn’t even remotely defensive, just mildly amused. “Christopher! Your daughter’s here to collect you. Time to go!”

Now Chris really just wanted to deck him.

“Why are you being such an asshole?” Scott rounded on Peter. “I can smell it from here. He’s upset.”

“Just take him and go.” Peter grunted.

His daughter knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey Dad, it’s Allison. Come on out, okay?”

“No,” Chris glared at the door. It was all that stood between him and abject humiliation in front the teenagers he's supposed to be protecting. 

“We can’t help you until you come out, Mr Argent.” Scott was clearly worried.

He could hear Derek and Peter arguing from in the living room.

Chris sighed and opened the door. 

Allison’s eyes opened wide and her hand shot up to her mouth. “Dad?"

Scott did a double-take. "What the heck happened?"

“I don’t know, I woke up like this after I killed the Werenaga.” Chris stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Why did you come here and not home?” Allison gestured helplessly. “Why to Peter? Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?”

The question he hadn’t really wanted to answer but knew he’d be asked. He closed his eyes and looked away. “I’m sorry, Allison.”

“Sorry? That’s not good enough, Dad.” Allison closed her mouth in sudden realization. “We need to get you back, asap. This is ridiculous. You look younger than me!”

“He came here because Peter’s here.” Scott shrugged. “Allison, you know they have a thing.”

“Of course I know, everyone knows. But Dad, you said it was nothing serious last time we talked about it?”

“It’s more than a thing.” Scott said quietly. “Isn’t it?”

Chris shrugged. “I don’t want to discuss it right now but I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t think you have a choice.” Scott glanced over at the door to the living room. The argument was getting pretty heated and Derek was close to coming to blows with Peter.

When they all came out into the living room Derek stared in dumbfounded silence at Chris.

"I’m not leaving.” Chris said stubbornly. He clenched his fists. “I’m staying in Peter’s guest room whether he likes it or not.”

They both glared at each other and Derek just looked stunned.

Scott rubbed his forehead, “Mr Argent, I think you should come with us.”

“No.” Chris retorted.

“I’m going to find Deaton. I can’t help here.” Derek turned on his heel and stormed off.

Allison looked slowly over to Peter then back to her father. “Alright,” she nodded. “If this is what you want.”

“Hello, what about what _I_ want?” Peter tried.

Allison looked back at Peter. “I don’t care what you want,” she told him crisply. “I care about my dad and what he’s going through right now. If he wants to be here with you than this is the best place for him. Maybe somewhere inside you there’s a decent person. There better be, because if I find you’ve hurt him…”

“Okay. _Fine_. You want to stay here so much?  Fine!” Peter turned, stalked to his bedroom and slammed the door.

“I hope you know what you’re doing Dad.” Allison said softly.

“I know it’s weird. I’m sorry.” Chris gave a little shrug. “But I need him right now and he will come around. He’s just as freaked out as I am.”

“He’s right, Allison. I could sense it. Peter’s hiding it well....” Scott nodded. “But I think he genuinely cares about your Dad.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure, Allison.” Chris nodded gently. “I’ll be okay. You guys do some research and keep me posted okay? If we’re lucky, this all lasts only a week or so.”

Scott raised his voice though he didn’t like to when it came to Peter. Peter generally ignored his Alpha voice anyway. “Chris is staying here, Peter. We’ll check things out and keep in touch. Don’t hurt him.”

Peter didn’t answer.

Allison gave her father a hug and left with Scott.

*

Seeing Allison and talking to her made Chris feel a bit better. Deaton called with some relatively good news assuring him that it was unlikely the condition was permanent and it probably had something to do with Naga venom.

Peter emerged from his room eventually once the others were gone and left. He hadn’t told Chris when he’d be home and it hurt worse than he thought it would.

Chris took the opportunity to start compartmentalizing and reorganizing his emotions into things he could deal with. He started to learn as much about Peter as he possibly could by what was in his apartment. This would help him when the wolf returned and would also keep his mind focused.

So he searched Peter’s apartment. He looked for anything that would give him insight into him.

All he knew was what Peter chose to show him and if he wanted more he’d have to find it himself. In the past he hadn’t asked. He’d been too afraid of pushing Peter away if he pressed him. He started with Peter’s study. It was locked but he broke in easily. Werewolves had shit security systems.

Peter’s study didn’t yield anything interesting apart from what he already knew. Peter had a lot of books on different subjects and pages and pages of research notes. Surprisingly a few were in different languages and Peter had even written out some notes in Chinese. Who knew? He shrugged at that. Peter had a lot of different types of money stashed and his passport was current. He had no gun or weapon collections like Chris did. There were no pictures of people on the walls but there were several paintings and a small safe. An appointment calendar. Chris scoffed at the number of salon appointments. _That_ didn’t surprise him.

What did surprise him were two weeks in September that he’d blocked off. He found a lot of research on Peter’s computer about northern Spain but nothing that explained what the heck it was for.  Next was Peter’s room. He actually had filled all of the closets in the apartment with clothing but his room was where the important stuff went.

Chris searched through everything he could. He knew he was making a bit of a mess and Peter would be angry when he got back but he didn’t care. He needed to find something…something that would explain why Peter was being such an asshole. He did run across a number of brand new clothes….and sex toys… he came up empty. Nothing yielded any new information about Peter. He was on the verge of giving up when he found it.

Two open tickets to Spain. A honeymoon package. It had been in Peter’s bedside table drawer. The weeks were already secure as was the venue. The tickets were the exact dates that Chris saw on his calendar. Peter had been planning a trip and he wasn’t going alone.

Sure it was a couple of months away.

But a trip. A honeymoon trip? Chris paced. Did Peter have someone else in his life? Is that why he had been in such a hurry to get rid of Chris?

He felt an irrational surge of anger, jealousy washed over him like a tidal wave. Peter couldn’t go with someone else. He just … couldn’t.

When Peter came home, it was five hours later with Chinese take-out.

Chris was seated in a chair in the living room, his crossbow aimed at the door. He looked deadly calm and still a teenager.

“Damn, I was hoping it had been a _nightmare_.”  Peter rubbed his forehead tiredly. He hung his keys up and sorted his jacket on the coat rack. He cocked his head at the state of the apartment.  “Did a tornado happen?” He wondered mildly. “This is why I never wanted children.” He took note of the way the crossbow followed him as he moved towards the living room coffee table, swept Chris’ bag off of it and set down the food. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Who is it?” Chris asked hoarsely.  He’d been so angry all day he’d been unable to think about anything other than who Peter could possibly be going with, what they’d be doing. He’d tried working out, he’d tried jogging it off. He couldn’t stop thinking about some nameless asshole laughing at Peter’s stupid jokes. Kissing him, stroking him…doing things that only Chris was allowed to do. _Only you_ … Peter had told him once.

Peter’s eyebrows knotted together, “What are you talking about?”

“ _Who_ are you going to Spain with?” Chris snarled.

“Wow…” Peter exhaled. “You’ve had a productive day.” He started putting the small bins of food out on the table. “You’re probably hungry too. All that anger takes energy.”

“Peter, Goddamnit!” Chris swore as he aimed the crossbow right in the wolf’s face.

“Children shouldn’t swear, honestly.” Peter smirked. “We both know you’re not going to use that. Put it down, Christopher.”

“Who says?” Chris lowered the crossbow and fired. Peter caught the arrow and snarled. Chris pulled out his gun.

“Settle down!” Peter roared at him before he fired. “It’s you alright? I got those tickets for us.”

Chris blinked in surprise. He stared, dumbfounded at Peter. “Us?”

“Yes us!” Peter climbed to his feet. “When you came back I was going to ask you, but you took your damn time and I got nothing. Not one call. I was actually going to cancel the tickets. I was an idiot for even thinking about it. But you’ve come back and you’re not you anymore. I can’t have you all over again.”

“Peter, I’m still me.” Chris sighed as he put down the weapons. “You really wanted to ask me on a vacation?”

“More than that.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “I was getting tired of casual, of being an afterthought.”

“You were never an afterthought.” Chris frowned.

“Yes I was.” Peter shrugged. “I was always second to everything else. I’m used to that. I just thought maybe if you knew I was serious about you. Things might change.”

Chris started to laugh softly. “Jesus, Peter. I’ve been in love with you for well-”

“You loved me?” Peter blinked.

“ _Love_ you.” Chris corrected. “Look, I may not be much like this but I’m still me. I’m still the man you opened the door for. I may not have put my foot all the way in before but I’m here now, Peter.”

Peter looked down at his hands, then over at Chris. “Are you sure it’s you talking and not teenage you?”

“It’s me, Peter.” Chris assured him.

Chris rose and headed over to the Werewolf he took Peter’s face in his hands and kissed him gently with a soft little smile.  “I’m sorry I’m a disappointment right now, but Alan says it’s not permanent. “

He leaned in and nipped Peter’s earlobe. The wolf shuddered.

Chris lifted his eyes provocatively. “So we should take advantage of this while it lasts. I have a lot of energy to burn.”

Peter’s eyes glowed very blue.  “Does this mean you will come to Spain with me? Just us?”

“Yeah,” Chris kissed down Peter’s neck.

“And you’re not a disappointment.” Peter told him abruptly. “The only reason I wanted you gone was because I had no idea how I was going to keep my hands off of you. Do you have any fucking idea how cute you are as a teenager?”

“Cute?” Chris made a face then grinned wickedly. “I don’t know _Uncle Peter._ Why don’t you show me?”

Peter did.

Lucky for both of them, it didn’t last. Apparently Nagas had a magical way of staying young and Chris got hit with it as the Naga was dying. It only lasted a few more days and Chris woke up one morning with Peter Hale snuggled up to him. His cheeks had his beard back. He was normal again! Thank god.

He and Peter still had a long way to go but he was certain of one thing.

They were going to be okay.  
And he was happy. He kissed Peter's shoulder. "Wake up."

Peter's eyes fluttered open and the wolf inhaled deeply. "You're back." He reached over and traced the older man's muscles. "Still love me?"  
  
"Always." Chris whispered softly.

**FIN**


End file.
